The Deadwalk by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime Page B

His hand tightened on the sword, but
he didn't wake.
    That's right, Doan-Rau, keep sleeping. How I'd love to see your face in the
morning when you realize I'm gone.
    Gently, she sawed at the leather. It was tougher than she anticipated, but
eventually, she carved a narrow groove.
    Just a bit more...
    The snoring stopped. Rau's eyelids flickered.
    Riordan swore silently to herself. Unhooking her wrists, searched for a way
to camouflage her actions. Placing both feet against his side, she dealt him a
swift kick.
    Impact brought Rau fully awake. He leapt to his feet. Fury and fear battled
for control of his expression. Then, recognizing his attacker was bound hand and
foot, he flung the sword into the sand inches from her face. “Did you want
something, Your Majesty?”
    Riordan looked up at him, her gray eyes a mask of innocence. “You were
snoring.”
    “Snoring!” Rau glared down at her and visibly debated taking a swipe at her
with his sword.
    She nodded and yawned as widely as she could. “You were keeping me
awake.”
    “Wouldn't want to disturb your sleep, now would we?”
    “I just wanted you to roll over.”
    “Fine, I'm up now. Go back to sleep.”
    Riordan eyed the discarded blanket and shivered. “Could you fetch my
blanket?”
    Rau swore. For a moment he studied her, lying bound at his feet. He snatched
up the blanket and tossed it at her, leaving Riordan to find a way to wiggle
back under it.
    “Now be quiet, Your Majesty. Or I'll silence you with the blade of my
sword.”
    Riordan lay back on the cool sand. Rau stood a few paces away, staring into
the darkness. Looking no doubt for Nhaille.
    A blade of moonlight cut across the sand beside her. She turned her wrists
into the light.
    Across the thick leather band that bound her wrists was a deep slash.
     
     
     
     

The Deadwalk
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    The desert's predawn cold penetrated blankets, clothes even muscles. The
leather bonds did nothing to ease the cramps, merely forced her into unnatural
positions.
    Riordan's eyelids fluttered open. She'd been asleep, she realized with alarm.
Warily she scanned the scene around her. Couldn't be more than a few minutes.
Rau sat as he had for most of the night with his back against a rock, his sword
mere inches from his hand.
    She'd spent the night watching the stars make their slow journey across the
sky. All the while Rau sat sullenly in the darkness watching her.
    Serves you right. I hope you're every bit as stiff and cold as I am.
    But Rau had the freedom of his hands and feet. Rau had the liberty to attend
to the necessities of nature. It wasn't Rau lying bound like an animal on the
ground trying to ignore the dull ache in his bladder.
    For that alone I would kill you. As if the Prince needed another sin to stack
against the weight of his soul.
    Riordan flailed into a sitting position and sat up. “Morning.”
    He grunted in reply. Watching her with scant interest, he pulled his blanket
tighter around his shoulders.
    “Sleep well?” She couldn't resist the barb.
    Rau glared back at her, his eyes like dark jewels in the scant light.
“Tomorrow night you can sleep upright, roped to the largest cactus I can
find.”
    Riordan forced the smile spreading across her face into a bland stare. Not
much chance of that. There wasn't a plant of any type for miles. In the scant
light she could see the lines of strain beneath his eyes, proof of a night spent
in surveillance of his prisoner rather than sleep. Bet you'll not dare to sleep
soundly again, my Prince. Serves you right for snoring.
    “Since you're up, would you mind--”
    The Prince offered her a glower that said, not likely.
    “Lot of help it'll be if I die of bladder failure before we reach the
mountains.”
    That got his attention.
    Wouldn't want my human failings to interfere with your glorious rule, now
would we, Prince?
    Rau rose stiffly from the rock he'd been sitting on. Riordan watched him move
toward her, grimly